Chapter 48 It Won't Die, It's Warm
Budney also noticed Reinhardt's pale face, and his eyes filled with worry. He approached Buster and said in a sincere tone, "May I take a look? Perhaps I can help."
Although Buster disliked Budney, he hesitated for a moment out of concern for Reinhardt. However, his hesitation was dispelled by Reinhardt's gentle tightening of his sleeve, and Buster understood immediately.
He shook his head, also thinking about Reinhardt's special physique. If Budney discovered something, he would have to fight these guys again.
He could certainly fight, but it wouldn't be worth it if it delayed Reinhardt's treatment.
"No need." With that, he carried his princess alone and slowly walked into the night.
The forests of the snow-capped mountains were vast. After leaving the main group and confirming that there was no sign of anyone else following him, Buster simply took off running and headed up the mountain.
He stopped when he saw a cave that looked reasonably good and decided to make it his temporary base.
The animals in the cave were very friendly. When they saw the Storm Leader enter the cave, they ran away as fast as they could, as if they had seen a lion attacking.
Thus, Storm Leader was able to find a resting spot without taking any damage.
The cave contained food stored by the animals, and some of the food had begun to mold and rot. Even in such a cold environment, the foul smell could not be suppressed.
If it were just Buster himself, he wouldn't care about such trivial matters at all.
But Reinhardt's senses were very sharp except for his sight. To make him more comfortable, Buster lit a fire and placed Reinhardt near it before taking on the cleaning work for the first time.
The debris was quickly cleared away, and the flowing wind carried away most of the stench that had accumulated inside the cave. Buster took out a bottle of medicine for treating injuries and used it as a makeshift perfume, sprinkling it near the fire, which at least made Reinhardt feel much better.
After washing his hands in the snow, Buster returned to the room to find Reinhardt curled up like a fresh potato.
Given Reinhardt's personality, asking him directly probably wouldn't get any results, so Buster decided to take matters into his own hands.
The Storm Leader was astonished to find that the hands, freshly cleaned by the snow, were even warmer than Reinhardt's. He expertly pulled the other man into his arms, his hand encircling the man's slender elbow.
Buster sat cross-legged, his back against the cave wall. Reinhardt, who had only gained a few pounds, fell into his arms without warning.
It's like holding a block of ice.
Contrary to his impression of the soft and tender potatoes, Buster couldn't help but be surprised.
"What's wrong? Why are you suddenly so cold? Has this happened before?"
He slipped his hand inside the cloak and rubbed Reinhardt's shoulders through the fabric.
With his rough hands and calluses, the Storm Leader's friction to generate heat had little effect; instead, it caused the Son of God to let out a muffled groan of pain, which sounded even more agonizing.
What the hell do we do about this?
“It’s alright, I won’t die.” In his distress, Reinhardt’s voice trembled as he held him, each word laced with smoke, “Don’t worry about it too much.”
A chilling breath brushed against Buster's ear, making him feel cold as well. Buster made up his mind and simply tore open his clothes first.
His well-defined muscles were exposed to the air, and Buster, without thinking, reached for Reinhardt's collar.
When the latter noticed his movement, he unconsciously shrank back. As if out of fear, or as if burned by the heat of Buster's palm, his retreat lasted only a moment before he became obedient again.
Buster felt inexplicably nervous, his fingers loosening Reinhardt's cloak, his fingertips almost out of control.
This emotion seemed to be conveyed to the handsome son of the gods as well, a subtle confusion showing between his brows, as if he did not understand the meaning behind Buster's actions.
But he remained obedient, letting the Storm Leader torment him.
Buster, who was always quick-witted, naturally noticed his confusion. He wanted to explain, but the words stuck in his throat, and he didn't know what to say.
After much thought, he finally managed to come up with only a simple reminder.
"Don't fall asleep."
This position wasn't very convenient, so Buster grabbed Reinhardt's waist and pulled him onto his lap. His fingers inevitably brushed against Reinhardt's buttocks, which Buster readily lifted up until they were face-to-face. Only then did he release him and refocus his attention on Reinhardt's buttons.
Whether it was the clothes being too tight or Buster's clumsiness, his first attempt failed as he stubbornly held on outside the buttonhole. Fortunately, he found the trick on the second try, and the Storm Leader, with his exceptional talent in combat, emerged victorious, successfully unbuttoning the second button.
The Son of God, sitting on the Storm Leader's lap, had his head almost level with him. His trembling, weak body leaned towards Buster. If Buster hadn't been holding his waist with one hand, he probably would have fallen onto the Storm Leader long ago.
However, the Storm Leader had no time to attend to anything else; he was engaged in a one-handed battle with Button.
The third button is undone, and a body as exaggeratedly white as a princess, as described in fairy tales, is slowly revealed.
To be honest, this wasn't the first time Buster had seen Reinhardt's body. And it wasn't like he hadn't seen other guys' bodies before; most of the crew were rough men, and going shirtless was commonplace.
But this time, Buster inexplicably felt something was wrong.
His breathing was off, his heartbeat was off, and his body was completely off.
He knew he had a volcanic constitution, but now he felt like he was about to erupt, with everything burning intensely.
Especially after seeing Reinhardt's slender neck, his well-defined collarbones, and... and the fruit of Eden.
Sometime later, the shapeshifting potion on Reinhardt's face had lost its effect, and he had transformed back into the beautiful son of the god.
Her pale skin shimmered with a fragile, glassy sheen in the firelight, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch, yet it possessed a breathtaking, alluring magic.
He lowered his head slightly, causing his long, golden hair to cascade down towards Buster like a vibrant waterfall, yet as light as a feather, brushing against Buster's heart.
The unnatural blush at the corners of her eyes added an indescribable, fragmented beauty.
Buster's breath hitched.
Reinhardt’s consciousness seemed to float again in the waves of cold and pain. He was too weak to support his body and his forehead rested lightly, almost dependently, against Buster’s taut shoulder.
The cold and hot skin touched, and both of them trembled almost imperceptibly.
His faint breath brushed against Buster's neck. The breath was still cold, but it was like the finest hook, easily prying open all of the Storm Leader's defenses and pulling straight to the deepest part of his heart, causing a dense, unfamiliar soreness and throbbing.
Buster's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and the arms around Reinhardt's waist tightened involuntarily, as if he wanted to knead this cold and beautiful body into his own bones and blood, to warm him with his own body heat and life, and to dispel that damned cold.
He didn't even notice that the fabric was stretched taut by the suddenly rising tower top.
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Author's note: Buster: Don't wear such difficult-to-resolve clothes next time!
Veroria: Next time I'll put a chili pepper jacket on him! Let's see how you take it off!
Reinhardt: Or you can choose not to touch it...
Buster breaks through the defense: No way!!
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